Note: This is an unfolding story. Anytime 4chan is involved, the origin of things can get murky. Even if 4chan started it, this story has picked up serious momentum and the attention of the mainstream media.

As an oldster, video games and I go a long way back. In my youth, our family actually owned an Atari gaming console. It had one game: Pong. It was an idle distraction for Private Boy and his older brother. More sophisticated games could be found in video arcades and those were busy places. I spent quite a few quarters in such places, particular at the game room on Massachusetts Avenue next to the Orson Welles theater in Cambridge, MA. I noticed that some of the MIT kids from up the road were totally into such games and their conversations were all about technology that I simply couldn’t fathom. This was the beginning of gaming culture.

Going forward, I played some Doom on a PC, some Team Fortress, and later some Call of Duty on a Playstation. Enjoyable and a distraction, but I didn’t jump into the gamer culture. But I was aware of it because of my ex’s youngest son was quite the online video gamer and I asked him lots of questions while I watched him play some really cool first-person shooters. I overheard the audio as digital characters ruthlessly murdered each other. Good times.

There’s a stereotype of video gamers in that they tend to be younger men, socially awkward, white, heterosexual, and generally bereft of female attention. The female attention is the key element to the stereotype because it represents an exploitable emotional vulnerability. Demented female Social Justice Warriors (SJWs) moved in to maliciously exploit gamer guys in order to advance a cultural ideology. These puritanical scolds immediately started pushing their ideology with shame, anger, threats; all the usual tricks used by Internet bullies.

Even though SJWs are mentally ill and have a pathological hatred for gamer guys, they had a degree of success. Enough White knight gamers and game journalists fell for the manipulation and at least one high-profile SJW was actually taken seriously. Behold the power of ladyparts on guys who normally don’t get female attention. This is emotional exploitation of the highest order. “I don’t like guy gamers but in order to impose my ideological control on them, I’ll hold my nose and wade into their filth”.

But when ethical lines regarding trading sex for influence were crossed, the gamer community took a stand and basically told the SJWs and the gamer media who supported the SJWs to fuck off with #gamergate #notmyshield. Now the lines are drawn. White knights and SJWs on one side, informed gamers who hate being told what to do on the the other. The informed gamers are also not all white, male, and heterosexual. Oh, the conundrum; it turns out that gamers are not a monolith of white, cis-het scum.

I’m following this whole thing because I know that the SJWs continually try to influence normal and natural attraction and dating between the sexes. There’s a SJW-oriented dating advisor who floats around the Evan Marc Katz blog. In comments, he pushes back with political correctness against the sound and correct advice the EMK dispenses. EMK had to deliver a return comment smackdown at some point. That’s just one example. Every time a guy hears “you should be attracted to…”, there’s a SJW at work, either directly or indirectly through the politically correct media. Attraction isn’t a choice.

SJWs will always be needling the culture in order to fulfill an ideological agenda. Fortunately, they are operating in the context of a relatively free market capitalistic system. Financial profit will determine successful gaming content. That same profit will also determine the successful approach to attraction and dating advice. This makes SJWs seethe with rage and I rather enjoy that.

Actually, it’s hooray to my readers and commenters. It’s been three and a half years of blogging. This project started almost as an impulse. I didn’t have any huge plans. It started because writers write. With print publishing dying, writers like me need a place to showcase the words. My portfolio of printed words is large but that goes back to pre-Internet days. When writers toiled for printed publications, the money was short and the editorial supervision was heavy handed.

Very, very few bloggers make a living at this. I don’t even try. The donations have been welcome, of course. Basically, I just like writing the words of a middle age guy going through some stuff and sharing ideas with the Manosphere. I do enjoy being part of this fractious community.

My involvement in social media is mostly focused on this blog and Twitter. My Facebook account has cobwebs on it. For some reason, the thought of Instagram sickens me. I only think about Tumblr when I’m on the toilet. But I do participate in Reddit. I even did an “Ask me anything” (AMA) event there. I also check out the Roosh V forum. There are some very intelligent guys there.

As for Twitter, I think it’s great. Being limited in characters means having to be very careful with one’s words and punctuation. I’ve been on Twitter for about three years. I thank Sean Connery for letting me use his image. According to one female acquaintance, I actually resemble him.

Blogging is rewarding for me. Of course, I need more comments! Um, that’s a hint.

“Editor’s” Note: Danny has pretty much given up blogging on his primary website. That’s his choice and I respect it. But his life has moved on. Gone is his military career – he retired at 40 – and a new career, after vocational school, will soon begin. But in the meantime, his life is interesting and I’ve agreed to post some things of his. This is his post. I’ve not corrected or edited anything. It’s copypasta at his request.

it’s been a while since i thought about writing something. to be honest, i really didn’t have anything to write about. well that’s officially changed.i got a job.i placed applications at damn near every place that has radiology. i STILL haven’t gotten a call back and when i call they refer me to HR. so i placed applications at every restaurant within 15 minutes of my house. 2 places called back. long story short, i’m now a kitchen guy at hooters. yes, hooters. they let the fox into the chicken coop. been there about 2 weeks. and let me tell you, it’s been fucking interesting. for now, i can really only do dishes, but that means i ALWAYS have the girls coming up to me.first, one of the girls came to the back and made a smart ass comment, a shit test. i called her out and told her she was on planet danny, and on planet danny i’m the sun and she’s the moon, and moon revolves around the sun. she laughed it off and gave me a, “yeah, ok.” and walked away. the next day she came in about an hour into the shift and asks me, “so i’m the moon and you’re the earth?” i laughed and told her i was the SUN. now when she comes in and drops off shit for me to wash i tell her, “thank you my moon.” and she answers with, “of course my sun.” tonight i got her number and going for drinks wednesday. she’s easily a 7.

i have a large rack above me to the right that the girls put cups in. when the racks are full, i wash them. when they’re done, i stack them to my left for the girls to take back out. i think it was day 2 or 3 that a girls came in and placed cups in the rack and said, “we always have cups.”. i told her they weren’t cups, they’re love. i pointed to girls rack above me and told her that the girls love me, then pointed to my stacked cups and told her that i love the girls back. she laughed and walked out. same girl was placing cups in the rack and was standing very close to me; she’s about 5’8″. i turned my head to the right to grab shit and i got a face full of tit. i backed away and apologized- she was laughing. i told her “thank you” while making a voice like my face was buried in there still.

the girls HATE getting wet, and i have the hose. the girls know if they stay in my section too long they may just end up getting a little water on them. so they unload their shit as quickly as they can and hurry away. i now know how to cause just enough spray to get a little on them. when i do they squeal and talk shit. i give them a side glance and point the hose right at them. they yell playfully and run out the kitchen.

and then there’s the best part about being in the wash station. when the girls come in and leave for the night, they change in a corner behind me. well, when we close, and they’re rushing to get out, they change out of their shorts and shirts in front of me. one new girl asked why they change with me the there and one girl said dismissively, “he works here, he doesn’t doesn’t count.” then one girl called my name, i looked ad she was standing there without her shirt and asked me if i liked her bra. i laughed and told her if she kept it up she’d end up pregnant. all the girls laughed.

the other night, while the girls were changing to go home, a girl mentioned, “i finally got my clit pierced. i love it.” this led to a brief conversation about best sexual positions for clit piercing, which led to favorite sexual positions. and it wasn’t a conversation that was had in a hushed tone. they were VERY vociferous about it.

they just hired a new girl- solid 8. when we were starting the shift she was pretty chatty with me. i don’t know her, so i said little more than to answer her questions. as the shift went on, every time she came to the back, she’d stare me down for a good 4-5 seconds. prolonged eye contact- classic IOI. as we were closing one of the kitchen guys told me that girl liked me. i told him i knew. he looked at me weird and i explained the eye contact shit.

he laughed. this guy is banging the hottest girl in the kitchen (she’s WAAAAAAAAAAY too young for me). but i call his chick my little mermaid. she LOVES it.

my girl was changing and i told her we needed to hang out we have a day off. i copped her number and we did a little text flirting after i got home. and let me tell you, the girls at work are 7’s MINIMUM.

they feed me free food, give me a beer after shift, and i get paid to neg 7’s+. and if you don’t neg the girls, you’ll get rolled by them. i LOVE this job.stay up.

The dames completely loathe and despise nice guys. If a man is nice to a dame, she will instantly hate him. If she had a gun, she will kill him.

Actually, the word “loathe” isn’t strong enough. Give a dame a gun and she will murder a “nice guy” in a skinny minute. She will take that gun, point it towards his head and blow his brains out without hesitation. Then she will hit up some Tinder dick to hamster away her homicidal act because she’s so empowered. But if that Tinder guy is short, he’ll be on the low end of the “Fuck, Marry, Kill” game. Yes dears, men know this game. The ‘Net shows all.

Ladies, you hate nice guys. Please be honest about it. You ladies want a confident, cocky guy. If you want to kill off the nice guys, there are lots of guns available. Oh, and white knights should be the first to go. Thankfully, such guys will line up for the slaughter.

TRIGGER WARNING – There are some truths in this blog post that might cause offense (That warning inserted because irony)

In the effort to make us all feel good about ourselves, we tell each other very pretty lies to cover up the ugliest of truths. This is the conundrum of “polite company”. We seek to soothe, not to confront. When the merest whisper of confrontation surfaces with unpopular ideas, there are now some very politically correct ways to scream “shut up!” without actually screaming or saying the words “shut up”. Oh crap, I forgot to check my privilege. I am so sorry for causing “offense”. Regardless, I’m going to plow ahead.

The First Pretty Lie: “Accept yourself”

This is the prettiest of lies. It’s also a meaningless statement if a person, man or woman, seeks self-improvement in order to meet relationship goals. That phrase is actually damaging. If a person has accepted himself or herself then there is little motivation to adapt to Dating 2.0.

Self-acceptance results in too much personal stagnation. When relationship goals are not met, that’s incentive to cast off that self-acceptance and work on personal development. “Personal development” is the clever euphemism for “I suck at meeting my relationship goals and I have to change myself”. Hence, we have the dating coach industrial complex.

There are certain elements of life where acceptance is the only way. Consider the situation of the short man. Shoe lifts might help but he simply cannot grow taller. With the self-acceptance of his height, he can go on to improve his charisma and confidence. The ability of a human being to adapt and change is remarkable. Even after decades on this planet, a person can change himself or herself if the incentives are strong enough. Meeting relationship goals is a very strong incentive indeed. Did I mention the dating coach industrial complex? Actually, the whole life coach concept arose because traditional psychology hasn’t done particularly well. These types of coaches work to remove the cultural fog of the pretty lies.

There is a terrible social expectations that work directly against men and women working to improve their behaviors and personality to be more attractive to the opposite sex. Women are encouraged to appear more attractive physically but are actually dissuaded from working on their personalities so as to be more feminine. Worse, women are encouraged to be brassy, aggressive, and opinionated. That type of personality is hardly feminine and actually quite repellent to men with confidence and charisma.

Men are also encouraged to work on their appearance to be more physically attractive – though less than women – but are dissuaded from working on their personalities to be more masculine and therefore more attractive to women. Should a man work on his personality and communication skills to be more attractive, it’s somehow considered cheating or manipulative of women. So, men and women are strongly urged toward self-acceptance. The result is an unhealthy and static attraction and dating scene where relationship goal frustration is the norm.The second pretty lie: “Love yourself”

Um, no. This pretty lie is simply an expression of the feelz over the realz. This lie is most often directed at women by well-meaning but hopelessly naive friends and advice-givers. Telling a woman to “love herself” should actually be considered a back-handed insult. Women tell each this lie because of feelings and not truth.

Similar to the lie of “accept yourself” some dissatisfaction with one’s self is necessary for growth and change in order to meet relationship goals. But loving oneself has some very unpleasant unintended consequences. For men, it’s insufferable arrogance and all the unpleasantness that goes along with that personality characteristic. For women, the unintended consequence is an insufferable entitlement complex. Such an attitude results in complete selfishness along with strong narcissism. A woman’s online dating profile manifests such an entitlement complex with long lists of requirements and the statement of “Don’t message me if…”.

The female ego run amok is terrible and terrifying thing. Younger men deal with this much more than men in my demographic. The stories. The stories of demanding, shrill, unpleasant young women are legion and frightening. To be sure, there are women over 40 years old who act like spoiled children and thankfully, those women are few and far between. “Love yourself” results in consequences divorced from actions along with a “I can do no wrong” mentality. When a woman “loves herself”, humility – a very attractive feminine quality – simply evaporates.

Pretty lies must be exposed so that the truth about attraction between the sexes can be revealed. With those truths revealed for all the see, it’s possible to engage in some meaningful personal development to increase attractiveness to the opposite sex. Let’s review some noble truths of attraction and dating:

I’m dog-sitting for a week or so. My friend, Brenda, left behind these two Pomeranian dogs for me and Lucy to watch over while she ventures North to do some business at a Christmas gift show up in Virginia. So what the hell am I supposed to do with a couple of Pomeranian dogs?!

Lucy does look bewildered by the whole thing. Thunder is on her right. Lightning is on her left. Hey, I didn’t name the things!

This time has been a bit more serious. I’ve been in the hospital since early Sunday morning with at least half a dozen broken ribs and a broken collar bone. The pain has been extraordinary. I won’t bore you with the details but broken bones and ribs are involved.

Dragon*Con 2013 has ended. The geeks and nerds have dispersed from downtown Atlanta. I’m on the road heading back to South Florida and staying in a wee ‘burg in southern Georgia for the night. I’ve got lots of photos to post but driving and rest takes precedence.

I did meet two of my blog readers. One of them, Alex, was cool enough to volunteer his time to help us with booth stuff, especially when it was time to back up and head back down South. The other reader, John was really cool and actually paid attention to my bombastic (HT Dagonet) nature.

I will post all sorts of photos from Dragon*Con 2013. It was legendary (at least from me).